The Dolores star. [volume], January 18, 1918, Image 2

About The Dolores star. [volume] (Dolores, Montezuma County, Colo.) 1901-current

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THE RANCH AT THE WOLVERINE
Ahleohhewildoudoorlifeofpimeerdayfllntcafledfordxalldxem—
- age and resourcefulness of men and women inured to danger and hardship
(Capyeiohs, Leste, Dsowa & C2) O -
The treuble with so many Western stories is that they are pre
posterous. The here is always young, handsome and a dead shot. He
never has even a remote fear of anything, no matter what the circum
stances, and he s a glutton fer hardships. The heroine is never any
thing less than beautiful. She rides like a goddess, handlies a gun
like a veteran, and possesses the wisdom of the ages, though she be
not old enough teo vote. In “The Ranch at the Wolverine” there is a
refreshing difference. The hero, the heroine, and the various and sun
dry other characters in the story, perform like regular human beings.
The men seem to be the kind that cuss and chew tobacco when out of
sight and sound of their wives. The women have crying spells and
fits of temper and gossiping bees and so on, Just like women In real
life. There’s not a dead shot in the tale, and nobody is too handsome
and good to be human. You will surely enjoy this serial.
THE EDITOR.
cNAP:’IR L.
Lot Us Otart at the Beginning.
FOIIB trall worn oxen, their necks
bowed to the yoke of patient
servitude, should really begin this
story. But to follow the trail they
made would take several chapters
which you certainly would skip—unless
you like to hear the tale of how the
wilderncss was tamed and can thril)
at the :‘emn history of those who did
the tamiug while they fought to keep
their stomachs fairly well filled with
food and their hard muscled bodies fit
for the fray.
There was a woman, low browed.
uncombed, harsh of voice and speech
and nature, who drove the four oxen
forward over lava rock and rough
prairie and the scanty sage. I might
tell you a great deal 'about Marthy,
who plodded stolidly ccross the desert
and the law lying hills along the Black
foot, and of her weak souled, shiftless
husband whom she called Jase when
.she did not call him worse.
They were the pioneers whose lurch
ing wagon first forded the singing
Wolverine stream just where it greens
the tiny valley and then slips between
huge lava rock ledges to join the larger
stream. Jase would have stopped
there and called home the sheltered
little green spot in the gray barrenness,
But Marthy went on up the farther hill
and across the upland, another full
day’s journey with the sweating oxen.
They camped that night on another
little, singing stream in another little
valley which was not so level or so
green or 8o wholly pleasing to the eye.
And that night two of the oxen, im
pelled by a surer instinct than their
human owners, strayed away down a
narrow, winding gorge and so discov
ered the Cove and feasted upon its rich
grasses. It was Marthy who went
after them and who recognized the lit
tle, hidden Eden as the place of her
dreams supposing she ever had
dreams. 8o Marthy and Jase and the
four oxen took possession, and with
much labor'and many hard, yéars for
the woman and with the same number
of years and as little labor as he could
manage on the man's part they tamed
the Cove and made it a beauty spot in
that wild land. A beauty spot, though
their lives held nothing but treadmill
toll and harsh words and a mental
horison narrowed almost to the limits
of the grim, gray rock wall that sur
rounded them.
' Another sturdy souled couple came
afterward and saw the Wolverine and
made for themselves a home upon its
banks. And In the rough little log
cabin was born the girl child I want
you to meet—a girl child when she
should have been a boy to meet her
father's need and great desire; a girl
child whose very name was a compro
mise between the parents. 'For they
called her Billy for sake of the boy
her father wanted and Louise for the
gir] her mother had longed for to light
en that terrible loneliness which the
far frontier brings to the women who
brave its stern emptiness.
When Bllly Louise was twelve she
wanted to do something big, though
she was hazy as to the particular na.
ture of that big something. She tried
to talk it over with Marthy, but Marthy
could not seem to think beyond the
Cove.
When she was thirteen Billy Louise
rode over with a loaf of bread she had
baked all by herself, and she put this
problem to Marthy:
“I've been thinking I'd go ahead and
write poetry, Marthy—a whole book
of ft with pictures. But I do love to
make bread—and people have to eat
bread. Which would you be, Marthy—
a poet or a cook?”
Marthy looked at her a minute, lent
her attention briefly to the question
and gave what she considered good ad
vice.
“You learn how to cook, Billy Lou
ise. Yuh don’t want to go and get no
tions. Your maw ain't healthy, and
your paw likes good grub. Po'try is
all foolisliness. There ain’t any money
in it.”
“Walter Scott paid his debts wrmng‘
poetry,” said Billy Louise argumenta
tively. She had just read all about
Walter Scott in a magazine which a
passing cowboy had given her. Per
haps that had something to do with
her new ambition.
. “Mebby he did and mebby he didn't.
I"a like to see our debts paid off with
po'try. It'd have to be worth a hull
W’n what I'd give for it.”
{ Have you got debts, too, Mar
thy?” Billy Louise at thirteen was
still_ready with sympathy. “Daddy’s
some cattle and now bhe talks to mom-
mie all the time about debts. Mommie
‘mumtonotollolnto.choolnut
winter, to Aunt Barah’s. And daddy
'says there's debts to pay. 1 didn't
know you had any, Marthy.”
“Well, I bave got. We bought some
cattle, too, and they ain’t done ’s well's
they might. If I had a man that was
any good on earth I could put up more
hay. But I can't git nothing outa Jase
but whines. Your paw oughta send
you to school, ‘Billy Louise, even if he
has got debts.”
“He says he wishes he could, but be
don’t know where the money’s coming
from.”
~ “How much sit goin’ to take?” asked
Marthy heavily.
“Oh, piles.” Billy Louise spoke airily
to hide her pride in the importance of
the subject. “Fifty dollars, I guess.
I've got to have some new clothes,
mommie says. I'd like a blue dress.”
“And your paw can’t raise fifty dol
lars?’ Marthy's tone was plainly bel
ligerent.
“Got to pay interest,” sald Billy Lou
ise importantly.
Marthy said not another word about
debts or the duties of parents. What
she did was more to the point, how
ever, for she hitched the mules to a
rattly old buckboard next day and
drove over to the MacDonald ranch on
the Wolverine. She carried SSO in her
pocket, and that was practically all
the money Marthy possessed and had |
been saved for the debts that harassed
her. She gave the money to Billy Lou- |
ise’s mother and said that it was a‘
present for Billy Louise and meant for |
“school money.” She sald that she
hadn’t any girl of her own to spend
the nmioney on and that Billy Louise
was a good girl and a smart girl, and
she wanted to do a little something to
ward her schooling. i }
A woman will sacrifice more pride
than you would believe if she sees a
way toward helping her children to an
education. Mrs. MacDonald took the
money, and she promised secrecy—with
a feeling of relief that Marthy wished
it. She was astonished to find that
Marthy had any feelings not directly
cennected with work or the shortcom
ings of Jase, but she never suspected
that Marthy had made any sacrifice for
Billy Louise. 3
So Billy Louise went away to school
and never knew whose money had |
made it possible to go, and Marthy
worked harder and drove Jase more
relentlessly to make up that SSO. - She
never mentioned the matter to any one.
The next year it was the same. When
in August she questioned Billy Louise
clumsily upon the subject of finances
“D’you Turn Them Calves Out Into
i the Corral?”
and learned that daddy still talked
about debts and interest and didn't
know where the money was coming
from she drove over again with money
for the schooling. And again she ex
tracted a promise of silence.
She did this for four years, and.not a
soul knew that it cost her anything in
the way of extra work and extra
barassment of mind. She bought more
cattle and cut more hay and went deep
er into debt, for as Billy Louise grew
older and prettier and more accustom
ed to the ways of town she needed
more money, and the August gift grew
proportionately larger. The mother
was thankful beyond the point of ques
tioning. An August without Marthy
and Marthy’s gift of money would have
been a tragedy, and so selfish is mother
love sometimes that she would have
accepted the gift even if she had known
what it cost the giver.
At eighteen, then, Billy Louise knew
some things not taught by the wide
plains and the wild hills around her.
She was not spofled by her little learn
ing, which was a good thing. And
when her father died tragically be
neath an overturned load of poles from
' the mountain at the head of the can
yon Billy Louise came home. The Billy
of her tried to take his place and the
Louise of her attempted to take care
of her mother, who was unfitted both
by nature and habit to take care of her
self. Which was, after all, a rather
big thing for any one to attempt.
Jase began to complain of having
“all gone” feelings during the winter
after Bllly Louise came home and took
up'the whole burden of the Wolverine
ranch. He complained to Billy Louise
when she rode over one clear, sunny
day in January. He said that he was
getting old, which was perfectly true.
and that he was not as ablebodied as
he might be and didn’t expect to last
much longer. Billy Louise spoke of it
to Marthy, and Marthy snorted.
“He's ablebodied enough at meal
times, I notice,” she retorted. “I've
heard that tune ever since’ I knowed
him. He can't fool me!”
‘ Jase maundered in at that moment,
and Marthy turned and glared at Jase
with what Billy Loulse considered a
perfectly uncalled for animosity. In
‘reality, Marthy was cpvertly looking
for visible symptoms of the all-gone
ness. She shut her harsh lips together
tightly at what she saw, Jase certain
'ly was puffy under his watery, pink
rimmed eyes, and the withered cheeks
above his thin graying beard really did
have a pasty gray look.
“D'you turn them calves out into the
corral?’ she demanded, her voice hard
er because of her secret uneasiness.
“I was goin’ to, but the wind's
changed into the north, 'n’ I thought
mebby you wouldn’'t want ’em out.”
Jase turned back aimlessly to the door.
His voice was getting cracked and
husky, and the deprecating note dom
inated pathetically all that he said.
“You'll have to face the wind goin’
home,” he said to Billy Louise. “More'n
likely you’ll be facin’ snow too. Looks |
bad off that way.” |
“You go on and turn them calves
out!” Marthy commanded him harshly,
“Billy Louise ain’t goin’ home if it
storms. I sh'd think you'd know
enough to know that.”
“Oh, but I'll have to go anyway,”
the girl interrupted. “Mommie can't
be there alone; she’d worry herself to
death if I didn’t show up by dark.
She worries about every little thing
since daddy died. I ought to have gone
before—or I oughtn’t to have come.
But she was worrying about you, Mar
thy. She hadn't seen or heard of you
for a month, and she was afraid you
might be sick or something. Why
don’t you get some one to stay with
you? I think you ought to.” She look
ed toward the door, which Jase had
closed upon his departure. “If Jase
should—get sick or anything"—
“Jase ain't goin’ to git sick,” Mar
thy retorted glumly. *“Yuh don’t want
to let him worry yuh, Billy Louise. If
I'd worrled every time he yowled
around about being sick I'd be dead or
crazy by now. I dunno but maybe
I'll have somebody to help with the
work, though,” she added after a pause,
during which she had swiped the dish
rag around the sides of the pan once
or twice and had opened the door and
thrown the water out beyond the door
step like the sloven she was. “I got a
nephew that wants to come out. He's
been in a bank, but he's quit and wants
to git on to a ranch. I dunno but I'll
‘have him come in the spring.”
i “Do,” urged Billy Louise, perfectly
unconscious of the potentialities of the
future. “I hate to think of you two
down here alone. I don’t suppose any
one ever comes down here except me—
and that isn’t often.”
“Nobody’'s got any call to come
down,” said Marthy stolidly. ‘“They
sure ain’t going to come for our com
p'ny, and there ain’t nothing else to
bring ‘em.”
“Well, there aren't many to come,
you know,” laughed Billy Louise, shak
ing out the dish towel and spreading
it over two nails, as she did at home.
“I'm your nearest neighbor, and I've
got six miles to ride—against the wind
at that. I think I’q better start. We've
‘got a half breed doing chores for us,
‘but he has to be looked after or he
neglects things. I'll not get another
chance to come very soon, I'm afraid.
Mommie hates to have me ride around
much in the winter. You send for that
nephew right away, why don't you,
Marthy?” It was like Billy Louise to
mix command and entreaty together.
“Really, I don’t think Jase looks a bit
well.”
“A good strong steepin’ of sage 'l
fix him all right, only he ain’t sick, as
I'see. You take this shawl.” s
Billy Louise refused the shawl and
‘ran down the twisted path fringed
with long, reaching fingers of the bare
berry bushes. At the stable she stop
ped for an aimless dialogue with Juei
and then rode away, past the orchard
whose leafless branches gave glimpses
of the low, sod roofed cabin, with
Marthy standing rather disconsolately
on the rough doorstep watching her go.
T e R LaE n
THE DOLORES STAR.
. Blue was climbing steadily out of
the gorge, twitching an ear backward
} with flattering attention whenever his
lady spoke. The horse went on, calm
1y stepping over this rock and around
‘that as if it were the simplest thing in
the world to find sure footing and car
ry his lady smoothly up that trail. He
threw up his head so suddenly that
Billy Louise was startled out of her
aimless dreamings and pointed nose
and ears toward the little creek bot-‘
tom above, where Marthy had lighted
her campfire long and long ago. ‘
A few steps farther and Blue stop
ped short in the trail to look and lis
ten. Billy Louise could see the nerv
ous twitchings of his muscles under
the skin of neck and shoulders, and she
smiled to herself. Nothing could _ever‘
come upon her unaware when she rode
alone soo long as she rode Blue. A
hunting dog was not more keenly alive
to his surroundings. |
“Go on, Blue,” she commanded after
a minute. *lf it's a bear or anything
like that you can make a run for it;
it it's a wolf I'll shoot it. You needn't
stand here all night, anyway.”
Blue went on, out from behind the
willow growth that hid the open. He
returned to his calm, picking a smooth
trail through the scattered rocks and
tiny washouts. It was the girl's turn
to stare and speculate. She did not
know this horseman who sat negligent
ly in the saddle and looked up at the
cedar grown bluff beyond while his
horse stood knee deep in the little
stream. She did not know him, and
there were not so many travelers in
the land that strangers were a matter
of indifference.
Blue welcomed the horse with a dem
ocratic nicker and went forward brisk
ly. And the rider turned his head,
eyed the girl sharply as she came up
and nodded a cursory greeting. His
horse lifted its head to look, decided
that it wanted another swallow or two
and lowered its muzzle again to the
water.
Billy Louise could not form any opin
ion of the man’s age or personality, for
he was encased in a wolfskin coat
which covered him completely from
hat brim to ankles. She got an impres
sion of a thin, dark face and a sharp
glance from eyes that seemed dark
also. There was a thin, high nose, and
beyond that Billy Louise did not look.
If she had the mouth must certainly
have reassured her somewhat.
Blue stepped nonchalantly down into
the stream beside the strange horse
and went across without stopping to
drink. The strange horse moved on
also, as if that were the natural thinzs
to do—which it was, since chance sent
them traveling the same trail. Billy
Louise set her teetb together with the
queer little vicious click that had al
ways been her habit when she felt
thwarted and constrained to yield to
circumstances and straightened herself
in the saddle.
“Looks like a storm,” the fur coated
one observed, with a perfectly trans
parent attempt to lighten the awk
wardness. |
Billy Louise tilted her chin upward
and gazed at the gray sweep of clouds
moving sullenly toward the mountains
at her back. She glanced at the man
and caught him looking intently at her
face. |
He did not look away immediately, |
as he should have done, and Billy Lou
ise felt a little heat wave of embar
rassment, emphasized by resentment.
“Are you going far?’ he queried in
the same tone he had employed before.
“Six miles,” she answered shortly,
though she tried to be decently civil.
“I've about eighteen,” he said.
“Looks like we'll both get caught out
in a blizzard.”
Certainly he had a pleasant enough
voice, and, after all, it was not his
fault that he happened to be at the
crodsing when she rode out of the
gorge. Bllly Louise, in common jus
tice, laid aside her resentment and
looked at him with a hint of a smile
at the corners of her lips.
“That's what we have to expect when
we travel in this country in the win
tér,” she replied. “Eighteen miles will
take you long after dark.”
“Well, I was sort of figuring on put
ting up at some ranch if it got too bad.
There’'s a ranch somewhere ahead on
the Wolverine, isn’t there?”
“Yes.” Billy Louise bit her lip, but
hospitality is an unwritten law of the
West, a law not to be lightly broken.
“That’s where I live. We'll be glad to
have you stop there of course.”
The stranger must have felt and ad
mired the unconscious dignity of her
tone and words, for he thanked her
simply and refrained from looking too
intently at her face.
Fine siftings of snow, like meal flung
down from a gigantic sieve, swept icto
their faces as they rode on. The man
turned his face toward her after a long |
silence. She was riding with bowed
head and face half turned from him
and the wind alike.
“You'd better ride on ahead and get
in out of this,” he said curtly. “Your
horse is fresh. It’s going to be worse
and more of it before long. This
cayuse of mine has had thirty miles
or so of rough going.”
“I think I'd better wait for you,” she
said primly. “There are bad places
where the trail goes close to the blufr,
and the lava rock will be slippery with
this snow, and it’s getting dark so fast
that a stranger might go over.”
By B. M. BOWER
“If that's the case the sooner you
are past the bad places the better. I'm
all right. You drift along.”
Billy Louise speculated briefly upon
the note of calm authority in his voice,
He did not know evidently that she
was more accustomed to giving com
mands than to obeylug them. Her lips
gave a little quirk of amusement at his
mistake. .
“You go on. I don’t want a guide.”
He tilted his head peremptorily toward
the blurred trail ahead.
Billy Louise laughed a little. She did
not feel in the least embarrassed now.
“Do you never get what you don't
want?” she asked mildly. “I'd a lot
rather lead you past those places than
bhave you go over the edge,” she said,
“because nobody could get you up or
even go down and bury you decently.
12 wouldn't be a bit nice. It's much
simpler to keep you on top.”
He said something, but Billy Louise
could not hear what it was. She sus-
“You'd Better Ride On Ahead and Get
In Out of This.”
pected him of swearing. She rode on
in silence.
#Blue’s a dandy horse on bad trails
and in the dark,” she observed com
panionably at last. “He simply can't
lose his footing or his way.”
“Yes? That’s nice.”
Billy Louise felt like putting out her
tongue at him for the cool remoteness
of his tone. It would serve him right
to ride on and let him break his neck
over the bluff if he wanted to. She
shut her teeth together and turned her
face away from him.
8o, in silence and with no very good
feeling between them, they went pre
cariously down the steep hill (the hill
up which Marthy and the oxen and
Jase had toiled so laboriously twenty
seven years before) and across the tiny
flat to where the cabin window wink
ed a welcome at them through the
storm.
CHAPTER Il
A Book, a Bannock, and a Bed.
LUE led the way straight to the
B low, dirt roofed stable of logs and
stopped with his nose against the
closed door. Billy Louise herself was
deceived by the whirl of snow and
would have missed the stable entirely
it the leadership had been hers. She
patted Blue gratefully on the shoulder
when she unsaddled him. She groped
with her fingers for the wooden peg in
the wall where the saddle should hang,
failed to find it and so laid the saddle
down ,against the logs and covered it
with the blanket.
“Just turn your horse in loose,” she
directed the man shortly. *“Blue won't
fight, and I think the rest of the horses
are in the other part. And come on to
the house.”
It pleased her a little to see that he
obeyed her without protest, but she
was not so pleased at his silence, and
she led the way rather indignantly to
ward the winking eye which was the
cabin’s window.
At the sound of their feet on the
wide doorstep her mother pulled open
the door and stood fair in the light,
looking out with an anxious look.
“Is that you, Billy Louise? Oh, ain’t
Peter Howling Dog with you? What
makes you so terrible late, Billy
Louise? Come right in, stranger. I
don’t know your name, but I don’t
need to know it. A storm like this is
all the interduction a fellow needs, I
guess.”
“What about Peter?” Billy Louise
asked. “Isn’t he here?”
“No, and he ain’t been since an hour
or so after you left. He saddled up
and rode off down the river, to the res
ervation, I reckon.”
r*—_—_——\\
The stranger introduces him
self as Ward Warren, who has
a claim on Mill creek. Billy
Louise has had many day
dreams about a man bearing
that name.
(TO BE CUNTINUEDY
INPROVED UNIFORM INTERNATIONAL
SUNDAYSCHOOL
LESSON
(By E. O. SELLERS, Acting Director of
the Sunday School Course of the Moody
Bible Institute, Chicago.)
B R T W THD | O .
(Copyright. 1917, Western Newspaper Unioa.)
—_—————————a
~ LESSON FOR JANUARY 20
JESUS AT WORK.
LESSON TEXT—Mark 1:21.6.
GOLDEN TEXT-—-We must work the
works of him that sent me vhuoltl-“
day.—John 9:4.
ADDITIONAL MATERIAL FOR
TEACHERS—Matt. 4:23-35; Luke 4:16-22,
31-44; Matt. 9:35-48; 11:28-30; Luke 8:1-3.
PRIMARY MEMORY VERSE—And he
healed many that were sick.—Mark 1:34,
INTERMEDIATE TOPIC—The power X
and sympathy of Jesus.
MEMORY VERSE—GaI. 6:2.
SENIOR AND ADULT TOPlC—Jesus
meeting human needs.
At the risk of repetition we will once
more call attention to the new plan of
Sunday-school lessons. Its character
istics are: First, the uniform teaching.
A general lesson title and the same
general Scripture passages as the basis
of study for all grades. One Golden
text for all, although frequently a de
votional Scripture lesson and particu
lar text which is intended for the
opening worship of the school or for
departments of the school, with addi
tional scriptural material for the use
of teachers of the various grades.
Second, the grades and ages. The
grades recognized are: Primary, pupils
from six to eight inclusive ; junior, nine
to eleven or twelve inclusive; inter
medlate boys and girls, twelve pr thir
teen to seventeen inclusive; senior or
young people, eighteen to twenty-four ;
adults, twenty-five and upwards. Be
ginners are not included in these les
sons, as they have been provided for
in the beginners’ lessons of the graded
courses, Third, the graded teachers.
Different lesson topics or titles as
adapted to the different grades. Again,
memory verses for the various grades.
Additional scriptural material intended
especially for the graded lesson wri
ters and teachers. Sometimes the les
son text for a certain grade is simply
a small portion of the uniform or gen
eral Scripture passage for that day.
The first six months of this year
will be devoted to the Gospel of Mark.
Every syllable will be covered during
the course. Then there is to be a three
months course of study in the Chris
tian life on such vital topics as: The
Beginning of a Christian Life, Reading
God's Word, Praying to God, Obeying
God, Growing Stronger, Speaking for
Christ, Conquering KEvil, etc.,, appar
ently disconnected, but really a vitally
related course on topics dealing with
Christian living.
The Lesson for Today.
I. The Man of the Unclean Spirit
(vve 21-27). Jesus was teaching in the
synagogue, and the results ‘wéte far
different from those in Capernaum or
Nazareth. (See Luke 4:16-30.) But as
always, evil is present with good, and
evil always recognizes true piety,
hence those present recognized that a
God-sent man with a God-given mes
sage was speaking. Sunday-school
teachers should also speak with au
thority, for we are as “the oracles of
God.” (I Peter 4:11.) Notlice Christ’s
power over spiritual evil. (vv. 23-27.)
Demonlacal possession, we are told, is
quite common today in China and other
heathen lands. The terror of this de
mon at the words of Christ may sug
gest how evil men will feel when
Christ shall come again. As always,
evil desires to be “let alone,” but
Christ would not let him alone. The
demon did not want to come out, but
he was helpless ‘before the power of
Christ and had to come, and in coming
he made himself so felt that the people
were “alf amazed.” Neither astonishy
ment nor amazement, however, is con
version.
11. Peter’s Mother-in. Law (vv. 28-34.
In this next scene we have one of the
homes wherein Jesus manifested his
power over physical or bodily illness.
Notice Christ was abiding with his
own loved ones. Here is an example
on the part of Christ of how to do per
sonal work. Also an example and a
testimony that service Is a testimony
of gratitude. The fact that this one
was healed and that she began at once .
to serve, is also a testimony to the
fact of tue cure.. There was sickness
In that home, not “error of mortal
mind,” and they did what was best—
brought the sick one to Jesus. Again
In verse 30 is this keyword of Mark’s
Gospel, “straightway.” Jesus could
heal at a distance (John 4:50-53), but
he liked to come straight up to the
afflicted one. Notice he took her ‘by
the hand. This, too, is a lesson for us.
The gospel of a handclasp is too often
neglected. The “taking-by-the-hand”
religion is much needed in our
churches today. 'Notice he also “raised
her up.” People need to be lifted to
day. It is not enmough to command
them to rise; we must also help them
to arise, Then it was that “the fever
left her.” Sickness, as well as de
mons, gave way before the Lord.
The concluding scene of ' this day
(vv. £2-35) 1s remarkable and presents
a vivid and beautiful picture. “At
even when the sun did set” (v. 32) they
brought unto him “all” that were dis
eased. While all were gathered at the
door, not all were healed, for.the rec
ord says, “many were healed.” We
read.“mnymcnlled.but!eweho
sen.” All that city was gathered that
eventide about Peter’s door (v. 23), but
the sad part of it was that not all
received the healing touch of Christ.
They had had a wonderful Sahbath
day. They had seen proof of the"
power of the Master.